


Brunch From Across the Table

by megumijaya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megumijaya/pseuds/megumijaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor's at brunch with his family (all of them) and spots a cute red head from across the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Both Ordered French Toast

 

 

 

              

 

 

 

Sandor Clegane and his family sat at the round restaurant table waiting for their waiter. He had to suffer the morning brunch with his barely functional relatives and act like he wouldn't rather slit his throat. He sipped at the glass half emptied water and listened to his younger sister ramble on about her Sunday school.

Sandor, his father, and brother, Gregor, had no interest in waking up early to pray to some gods who don't give three shits about them. His mother and younger sister, though, love the Seven and worship whenever they can. So after a late morning and tiring service, the males and females of the family congregate at the local restaurant, The Great Hall.

"So then Helen says the Crone gives a golden dragon to every child that helps an elder. Obviously, she's wrong because where would the Crone get all this money." the youngest Clegane giggles and continues. Sandor doesn't think much of his sister's story and instead gazes his eyes behind her. His tall stature allowed him the freedom to see all around the restaurant but in his first line of sight was the front door he so wanted to get out through. That is until a large family walked through and seated themselves at the table next to the Cleganes.

Sansa Stark was famished; her choir had sung so many songs she thought her vocal chords might decide to just shrivel up and die if she didn't drink something soon. So to say the least Sansa was over the moon at the prospect of going out for brunch. Her family had just moved to the town of King’s Landing and hasn’t been anywhere to eat yet. The cute house restaurant of The Great Hall was perfect for the large family of nine.

They were seated at a long table surrounded by smaller round ones. Sansa didn’t bother to look around much, so she sat between her sister, Arya, and older brother, Robb.

“The food better be good here.” Arya complained of hunger all through the morning. Sansa agreed silently with Arya but would never dare to say it aloud; she lifted her menu and scanned her eyes of the breakfast meals. The berries and French toast seemed appealing enough, so she placed her menu gently on the table and looked up. Her eyes immediately locked on the man behind her mother. He was sitting at a round table with his family (who were all silent except a young girl) and sipped from a glass of water.

The man must have felt her stare because he turned his head towards her and his grey eyes captivated her. She had noticed the gruesome scar on the left side of his face and couldn’t help herself to wonder how badly that must have hurt.

“Sandor, darling what are you going to have?” His mother had released him from the red headed girl’s enchantment when the waitress had come to take their orders.

He looked up at the waitress but his brain was still on the blue-eyed girl. “Umm…food…”

Gregor laughed loudly at his brother and the waitress smiled, “Yes, we do sell that but what do you specifically want?”

Sandor sneered at his brother and said through gritted teeth, “Let me just get some French toast.” The waitress wrote down their orders, smiled, and left—but not to fast to escape Gregor handsy touch that grabbed her bum.

“She’s got a nice arse on her.” Gregor nods in approval to which Sandor snorts and his younger sister wrinkles her nose.

“Mama, he can’t do that.” She says but their mother just lowers her head in shame. Sandor huffed annoyed at his mother and turned to look back at the red headed girl with eyes like azure. At the moment the girl was laughing with a boy with same hair as her (Sandor could only assume her brother). She smiled so brightly that Sandor wished it was him she was smiling at. He wanted nothing more than to be at that table instead of seated next to the monster of his brother who had ruined his face when he was six. The only thing Sandor was happy about was that he would be graduating this year and could move out—unlike Gregor who liked to leech after their parents’ money and support.

Sansa felt his stare again as she laughed at Robb’s impression of Theon’s flirting (which Theon did not think was funny).  She turned her head and smiled radiantly at the man who looked surprised that she would do something of the such. Sansa was surprised as well, when it came to boys she was physically attracted to she‘ll avoid any eye contact all together. But now she was observing the man’s body, she really liked his shoulders. They were broad and muscular, like his biceps. Sansa felt a strange tingling down her body at thought of being held in between them. She looked away quickly, red in face, and made eye contact with her mother who looked at her with question.

“Are you okay, Sansa, are you sick? You’re face is really red.” Catelyn asked her daughter to which Sansa grows even redder from.

“No, no, I’m fine just a little hot in here.” Sansa reached for her glass of water and daintily sipped from the straw.

“Really I’m freezing and you’re wearing a dress?” Arya jumped into the conversation to Sansa’s dismay.

“Yes well that’s because you’re cold blooded.” Sansa rolled her eyes and looked back at the man behind her mother. He grinned, which caused Sansa to believe that he heard her.

“Fuck you!” Arya told her. Everyone at the table heard her and turned to look at her.

“Ooh, Arya said a naughty word.” Rickon, the littlest sat next to their father, Eddard.

“Arya, watch your language. Those words aren’t meant to come out of a young girl’s mouth.” Sansa sticks her tongue out at Arya, who seethes at her.

“Whatever.” Arya turns her back to Sansa to talk to Jon, their cousin.

“I’m going to the restroom.” Sansa stood up and locked eyes on the man behind her mother.

“No one cares.” Arya mutters not looking at Sansa.

Sandor had listened to the girl’s excuses and her argument with the small dark haired girl. He liked to think he caused her blushing, but he wasn’t as naïve as his sister. He watched as the girl eyed him as she went to the toilets. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that look, but he’s seen some girls at school give their boyfriends that look when they want them to follow her.

 _Does she want me to follow her? Doubt it, she’s probably hoping I didn’t see her escape my hungry eyes._ But she didn’t, her long bare legs would be forever engraved in his memory as he thinks about what it might feel like to have them wrapped around his waist. Her short form fitting blue dress hugged her perfect curves. Sandor couldn’t guess her age but she was definitely younger then him but still in high school.

He still debated whether or not to follow her to the bathroom. It had already been maybe two minutes when he decided to get up and excuse himself from the table. He walked over to a long hallway where the bathrooms where. As he was going to reach for the men’s room, the girl walks out of the bathroom.

Sansa was worried that maybe he wouldn’t come after her, that she was getting the wrong impression of him. She went into the bathroom and waited by the door until she heard footsteps.

She looked at Sandor and bit her lip, Sandor cringed inside—he wanted to be her lip.

“What’s your name?” She looked down then back up at him.

“Sandor Clegane or the Hound, I’ve haven’t seen you around before.” His voice was deep and gruff the very contrast of Sansa’s light and soft voice.

“That’s because I’m new, my name’s Sansa Stark.” She pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

“Where are you from?” Sandor couldn’t believe he was making conversation with this girl, a girl leagues out of his own.

“Winterfell.” She says meekly staring into his eyes.

“The bloody North, are you sure your sister is the only one with cold blood?” Sandor smirks at the girl and steps closer to her.

Sansa presses her back against the bathroom door and breathes in deeply. “Yeah, I’m always so hot.” Sansa licks her lips and grin. Sandor shudders and rolls his shoulders back (which Sansa enjoyed watching), “Do you go to the high school?”

“Aye, I’ll be graduating this year. Let me guess, you’re a freshman.” Sandor’s scars crinkles up every time he makes an amused facial expression, but Sansa wasn’t disturbed by it.

“Yes, I am, but I have my brothers there, too. But they can be…protective, I probably won’t make that many friends.” Sansa tried not to fidget under his intense stature. He was remarkably taller than her, Sansa was pleased since most boys her age weren’t.

“Well, you’ve already made one acquaintance and school hasn’t even started.” Sandor laughed throatily and Sansa smiled at him.

“True and maybe this _acquaintance_ can show me around town sometime?” Sansa blushed lightly at what she insinuated.

“Maybe he can, little bird.” Sandor smirked.

“Little bird?” Sansa found the nickname cute but wondered why he gave it to her.

“Little bird, because you chirp like one of those pretty birds from the Summer Isles.” Sandor looked once more at her than smoothly started to walk back to his family.

“I’ll see you when school starts, Hound.” She called out after him.

Sandor sat back at his table and was glad to see his food had come while he was gone. He began eating, when he saw Sansa walk back to her table.

“Look at the arse on that one. I’ve never had a red head before.” Gregor’s eyes roamed Sansa’s form disturbingly.

“Gregor, I will shove your face into your plate if you say one more thing about anyone’s bum.” Sandor huffed and made eye contact with Sansa.


	2. King's Landing Preparatory High School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to continue this story but I don't really have a plan for it. I know these first two chapters are cutesy and what not but I think I want move away from that and then come back and move away again. So it's what ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sandor's sister is alive and she's quite younger in this story, her name has no real significance besides I liked it and the movie Poison Ivy.

 

 

Sandor had always hated school, but that didn’t mean he didn’t do well in it. Every year since freshman he had kept a GPA higher than three point five, and because of this he had the honor of getting a full scholarship to go to Red Keep University. He honestly wouldn’t have bothered going to college all together if it wasn’t for his mentor, Elder Brother.

So, for today he prepared his school bags, ate a filling breakfast, ignored his elder brother, and prepared his younger sister, Ivy, for middle school.

“Wait, what about my hair?” Ivy cried out pointing to the dark brown mess on her head.

“Do I look like a hair stylist to you, girl? Take a brush through it, and let’s go!” Sandor walked out to his car, a black Range Rover, and waited for his sister.

When she finally came out and opened the passenger door, Sandor started the engine and pulled off.

“Awww, I wanted to ride your motorcycle to school.” Ivy said dejected as she placed her feet up on the dash.

“Move those tiny feet before they fly out of the window.” Sandor reached over pushed her feet down, “And why should I take you to school on my Zero T5, the last time I gave you a ride you lost my helmet at the mall.” Sandor stopped at a red light and turned to look at her.

“I said I’ll by you a new one!” Ivy defended.

Sandor rolled his eyes and looked back at the street (the light had turned green), “Oh, yeah, when?”

“For your birthday!” Ivy knew that’s where she messed up.

“My birthday was in June!” Sandor countered.

“Then Christmas!” Ivy pulled her backpack back on as they neared her new school.

“That’s four months away,” Sandor pulled his car in park and unlocked the door. “Just get out.” Sandor grinned at Ivy and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” Ivy smiled.

“Whatever, good luck in sixth grade.”

Parking in the school lot was a headache waiting to happen, so Sandor parked down the block in front of some old lady’s house. He carried a black school bag with paper and pens, and made his way down to the school quad to retrieve his schedule.

Sansa’s morning had been stressful; the morning had been full of noise and annoyances. First she had to wait near an hour for Arya to get out of the shower (how could such a small person take so long cleaning themselves). Then her flat iron went missing, she had found it with Theon who wanted to _try something new._ The only good part of the morning was when she, Robb, Theon, and Jon left for high school. King’s Landing Preparatory High School was a bus ride away but the boys decided to take Jon’s silver hybrid instead.

“Junior year, boys, and at a new school!” Robb was ecstatic.

“Think of all the fresh clunge! I hear southron girls are wilder than the northern.” Theon nudged Sansa and wink. Sansa was grossed out by Theon and it showed on her face, her adoptive brother immediately retracted.

“Theon, I’m honestly bamboozled on how you don’t harbor some deadly STD.” Sansa shook her head and grinned.

“Anyway, Theon, you don’t have the time for sexing up all the poor girls at KLP, we have to prepare for university.” Jon said pulling up to a school parking lot and turned off the car.

“I wasn’t actually thinking of going to university, but instead hook up with some poor old cougar. She’ll keep me warm and fed.” Theon smiled.

Sansa was the first to exit the car. She pulled down her lace shorts and fixed her pink halter-top. She grabbed her messenger bag and put it over her shoulder and began to walk, not caring if her brothers were following.

The school was ginormous and built like a castle. Sansa was so busy looking up that she didn’t notice the larger person in front of her in till she bumped into their back.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bird.” Sandor shifted his bag. “So I see you weren’t lying.”

Sansa smiled up at him, “Why would I lie about going to KLP?”

“I don’t know, but remember…a hound can always smell out a lie.” Sandor laughed at her cute little pout.

“Are you going to get your schedule?” Sansa began walking again at a pace the kept up with Sandor.

“Aye, I could take you as well.” Sandor looked down at her but then shifted his eyes behind her. “But what about your brothers?”

“Forget them! Show me the way, hound.” Sansa grasped his large bicep in a grip of fury and pulled him away.

“Sansa, as much as I love your eagerness and all, we have to go that way.” Sandor grinned and pointed to his left.

“Oh… well I’m glad I have you here then, aren’t I.” Sandor led them in the right direction and they made it to a large table with four lines protruding out of it.

“There’s a line for each of the grades, Sansa. Over there is for freshman.” Sandor gently pushed her towards it.

“Thanks, Sandor.” She turned her head to him a pressed her soft lips on his unscarred cheek. Nobody in the lines had noticed their little exchange of public affection, but one girl did ask Sansa why she was so red.

Sandor had made his way over to his line and touched his cheek. He must’ve have been pensive because when his friend hit the back side of his head, Sandor didn’t (and usual would) beat the living shit out of him.

“Hello, anyone upstairs?” a hand waved itself in front of Sandor’s face.

“Bronn, move your greasy hand out my face before I break it.” Sandor looked at Bronn, but still had a clear view of Sansa.

“Well, it wouldn’t be there if you were down on planet Earth.” Bronn laughed and fell into the line. Sandor had only met Bronn last year when Bronn joined KLP’s White Cloaks Lacrosse team. Sandor had been playing on the team since freshman year, but played lacrosse since he was twelve.

“Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you graduated?” Sandor nudged Bronn.

“Yeah, well I missed you too much and thought I’ll come back.” Bronn shrugged and rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, of course, I came back for the babes. And so forth, I spotted a hot ginger in the freshman line.” Bronn had seen Sansa—oh yes, he had also seen Sandor with her.

“Don’t get it in the perverted mind of yours to do anything to Sansa.” Sandor snarled and pushed Bronn a little.

“I won’t, I promise. I saw her kiss you anyway.” Bronn smirked and turned around he had sneakily skipped Sandor and is now in the front of the line.

Sansa was astonished she had the temerity to kiss—even if it was on the cheek—Sandor. She watched as he walked away even more surprised then her.  She saw how another boy walked up to Sandor and conversed with him.

“Welcome to KLP, last name, please.” A beautiful girl with long brown hair and soft brown eyes asked Sansa. The girl wore small rosebuds in her hair and smiled.

“Stark, Sansa Stark.” The girl looked through a stack of papers and pulled out a sheet with Sansa’s name on it.

“Oh cool we have first period together.” The girl looked up at Sansa and passed her the paper. “I’m Margaery Tyrell.” The girl lifted up a manicured hand for Sansa to shake. “You know what? Maybe you could wait a minute or two for me to finish. It’ll only be these last two then I can show you around.”

Sansa did so and walked out of the line and waited. She slightly pleased at herself for doing so well at making new potential friend. Unnervingly, though, she felt Margaery had to be a lot more popular than Sansa. The girl had easily gotten Sansa to do as she wanted and with no complaint.

Sansa looked around again for Sandor, that maybe he was also looking for her. Unbeknownst to her, Sandor had seen the exchange of words with miss congeniality and thought best for Sansa to make more friends than just him.

“Alright, I’m done. Off to dance we go.” Marge looped arms with new girl and pulled her along. “So you’re the freshman Stark from Winterfell, I’m a sophomore.” Marge gave the girl a sideways look; she was a lovely looking girl. Sansa was tall but still kept a slim figure, like a model with a real body.

“How do you know where I’m from?” Sansa grinned at the petite girl.

“Oh, you can’t believe I didn’t read your file, can you?” Marge led the girl to a large studio with mirrors walls.

“Did you now, and what else did you learn besides where I lived?” Sansa walked with her to what seemed like a locker room.

“I learned that you have three other relatives attending this school, your family owns an ice company up North, and during the summer you work for a dance company, which is why you chose this elective even though it’s a double block.”

Sansa nodded all was true; she had a passionate love for dance and demanded to have this class even though it wasn’t an option for freshman. “You’re right. So tell me is this class any good.”

“For a professional like yourself, you’ll be fine, might even find it easy. But maybe Madame Lorraine could give you your own little number.” Marge and Sansa changed into dance shorts and tank tops, while the other girls filled into the locker room.

“Oh Ygritte, get over here I want you to met someone.” Marge waved over another ginger girl, except Ygritte’s hair was a little more orangery and her face was full of freckles.

“Oi, what do we have here another girl kissed by fire.” Ygritte dragged her hand through her hair, “Welcome to the club, hon, I’m Ygritte.” She pulled her hair through a hair tie and made a somewhat sloppy bun.

“It’s nice to me—”

“Ladies, let’s go!” a French woman’s voice called out. The girls quickly left the room in as quiet as cats in their sleek black dance shoes. Madame Lorraine had a soft muscular body and a plain face. Mossy green eyes and pastel blond hair neatly styled in a high bun; Madame Lorraine looked in mid forty’s. “Ah, the new student. A prodigy for lack of words, I hear. Well welcome, and show us what you can do.”

 


	3. Does He Have a Pregnant Girlfriend?!@?$

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the Pictures are: Battement pose, Marge as Anne Boleyn do that dance, and Frida Gustavsson as Amoria.

 

 

 

All throughout Sansa’s dance career she had learned not to think about the steps but focus on something that came to mind. No matter if it made her happy or sad, that emotion she was feeling would show through her movements. Sansa stood in the middle of the studio and stretched her body. The students patiently waited against the mirrors and stared as Sansa rolled her neck.

She had thought of doing something impressive yet easy because she hadn’t stretched as well as she wanted. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined the first thing that came up.

Sandor’s hungry stare at the Great Hall had been something that quite often came to mind; and did so then. Sansa sighed and began; the girl was an expert at all dances but for this time she did a contemporary dance that usual went along with the poem ‘To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time’.

“5, 6, 7, 8.”

Sansa finished with a battement in second position and landed on the ground. A roar of applause erupted and Sansa looked up at her peers.

“That was amazing, ma chere.” Madame Lorraine helped the girl up. “This class shall be a breeze for you.” Madame made the group of sixteen girls line in two lines to perform a Renaissance masquerade dance.

“Oh my god, I loved doing that dance.” Sansa grabbed Marge around her shoulders (who had been Sansa’s main partner).

“I know what you mean, it’s just like, sometimes I feel I was born in the wrong era.” Margaery laughed and grabbed her bags to leave. Sansa followed but was nearly blinded by the bright mid-day light.

Sansa thought of finding Sandor for lunch but decided that she’ll just sit with him when she sees him.

“Who are you looking for? The Hound?” Sansa raised her eyebrows.

“How do you know everything? It’s like you read my mind.” Marge rolled her eyes.

“It’s true I know most things—which is partly my grandmother, Olenna, and my brother, Loras’, fault. But no, I saw you two together.”

Sansa filed away the little bit of information, “Do you know Sandor well?”

“Not really, no. I moved here last year from High Garden; my boyfriend, Joffrey, though he was ‘friends’ with Sandor in till something happened. I don’t know what, Joff just says Sandor’s an ungrateful dog. To tell you the truth I think you could do so much better than him anyway.” Margaery placed her manicured hand on Sansa’s arm.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sansa smiled to be polite. The first girl she makes friends with doesn’t like the boy she li—is attracted to. So she brushed it under the rug like most things in her life. If the problem was in her line of view, it didn’t exist.

“But I do know a place you can find lots of cute boys.” Marge tried to push the girl to be excited she shook her shoulders suggested. “Tonight, there be an ‘Back to School’ party at this club in Flea Bottom. It’s called the Night’s Watch.”

“Oh, Flea Bottom? I’m not sure if I’m allowed to go there.” Sansa was slightly frightened at the thought of going to that side of town. She only just moved to King’s Landing but she drove through Flea Bottom once.

“Just call and ask your parents, tell them I’m bringing my personal guard.” Marge walked up to a pair of large wooden doors and pushed open. It revealed at least two hundred kids, who stayed for lunch instead of going off campus. Shouting from the west wing of the room seemed to come from to girls pulling each other’s hair.

“Don’t worry we don’t sit by them, their the scholarship students here for sports and funding. My table’s over here.” Margaery pulled her to the eastside of the room were lots of boys in white letterman jackets sat on tables and girls in rich clothing sat and applied make-up.

Sansa’s old school, Septa Mordane’s New and Old Gods Worship School, didn’t have cliques or social hierarchy.

“Well, could I borrow your phone? I don’t have one.” Sansa asked, but Marge’s jaw dropped.

“You’re in high school and you don’t have a phone?” Marge’s whole forehead crumpled. She made her way to the table and sat next to a short blond boy who was strikingly beautiful. Marge kissed him on the cheek to get his attention.

“Good you’re here.” Joffrey said to Margaery and kissed her lips but his eyes roamed behind her. The cute freshman red head blushed at what she saw and looked away.

Marge let go of Joffrey’s lips and searched inside her bag. She pulled out a pink IPhone and handed it to Sansa. “Anyway here, keep it. It still has everyone’s contact in it.” Marge turned back to her boyfriend. “Joff, this is Sansa, she’s an amazing dancer.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Joffrey reached for the underclassmen’s hand and kissed it. Sansa didn’t like the feel of his mouth corrupting her hand but just smiled through it.

“You as well, “ she smiled once more than looked at Margaery, “I think I’ll make the phone call outside.” Sansa looked around and saw a back door. She scurried to it and silently left the buzzing room. She walked out into what seemed like a parking lot and looked down at the phone and typed her mother’s number. She was going to press call in till she heard a familiar voice.

“Amoria, why didn’t you say something early.” She saw Sandor with his arm around a petite light blonde haired girl.

“It wasn’t that bad till now. Honestly Sandy, you’re being too dramatic.” The girl looked around before she got towards a black Range Rover and made eye contact with Sansa. The girl, Amoria, had chilling pale eyes that pierced through Sansa’s blue ones.

“I need to know whenever, who else will take care of you?” there was a pause and Sandor released her to get into the driver’s seat. “That’s right only me because I’m the only one who cares. I even brought my car into this gods forsaken lot!” Sansa saw the whole woman’s body and then realized the girl was pregnant and some months along.

They got in the car and slammed the door, started the engine and drove off. Sansa stood there confused and hurt as to what she just saw. She didn’t think Sandor had a girlfriend, but now who knows?

Sandor gripped the steering wheel and tried not to look at the girl next to him.

“Really you need to calm down, your stress is making me stressed and that’s not good for the baby.” Amoria leaned back in the car seat and grinned sardonically.

“What if something were to happen and you couldn’t get to the hospital. What if you died? Who would have taken care of Tion?” Sandor looked quickly at her as he made a right turn.

“I would hope his father would?” Amoria knew that was a stretch but you couldn’t ever give up hope.

“Who? Gregor? You’ll be better off leaving Tion in the care of wolves, Gregor wouldn’t know what to do with a two year old.” Sandor looked at his brother’s on-and-off girlfriend and his unborn nephew. He was ashamed of his brother knocking up the girl twice and not caring either times.

“Don’t say that, but I won’t die, after I have this baby I’m going back home.” Amoria pulled her ashy blonde hair back.

“To Dreadfort?” Sandor had never been there but knew it was a right terrifying place; like Amoria’s eyes. But the thought of the North brought his mind quickly back to the little bird that kissed him this morning.

“Duh, Einstein. Now hurry up and get to the hospital, the bastard outta be a soccer player. And I will bring all the hells on earth if I have to give birth in a car!” Amoria’s eyes glittered like it did every once in a blue moon when she was angry.

“Sure Sansa, just be home by eleven thirty, okay?” Catelyn told her daughter through the phone.

“Yeah, thanks, mom.” Sansa hung up still dejected from what she witnessed and walked back to the lunchroom. She entered the food line and grabbed a cold peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She walked back to the table and saw Joffrey groping Marge’s butt. She sat on the left side of Marge and ate her sandwich.

“Are you okay Sansa, did your mother say you couldn’t come?” Margaery looked a little sad as well.

“No, she said I could come.” Sansa toke another bit, then she got another idea. “Hey are there any teen pregnancies here?”

Joff looked at Sansa and scrunched his eyebrows. _Why would she care?_

“Yeah, this year it’s a senior from up north like you, her name’s Amoria Bolton. Do you know her?” Margaery, as always, knew.

Sansa thought for a moment; Sandor did call that girl Amoria, so that piece of information was true. Now for the surname Bolton, she thought back to all the old Northern families. There were the Umbers, the Karstarks (distant relatives), the Manderlys, and…the Boltons. Sansa remembered when her father held a party and invited Roose Bolton and his family. There were four of them that came; Roose, two boys (Domeric and Ramasy) and a daughter, Amoria. As the memory got clearer Sansa remembered that was the first time Amoria had left Dreadfort, her father kept her homeschooled and locked away. A few years later, Sansa heard that the Bolton girl was sent away to live with some Southron family.

“Not very closely, she is quite some years older than me.” Sansa finished her sandwich and looked back up at Margaery. “Omg, I just forgot. I don’t have anything to wear!”

Marge smiled brightly glad that Sansa was finally excited about the party, “Don’t worry, girl, I got you covered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Amoria Bolton is from one of my other stories (not posted here yet) where she is the first wife of Gregor. We all kind of know what happens in the end but her being a Bolton opened up so many possibilities for me.


	4. There's Party down in Flea Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sing chapter title like "There's a Party Here in Agrabah" from Aladdin.

“Well, everything seems okay. But Miss Bolton, I would very much encourage you not to put on so much stress. The baby had started to feel some of your overwhelming stress and began to act out. So maybe not go to school for the rest of the year, till the baby is born at least. Think about it.” The doctor bid his goodbyes to the young woman and the young man sitting quietly next to her.

“Told ya, Sandor, nothing to worry about.” Amoria pulled down her shirt and swung her legs over the side of the doctor’s chair. “Now come on, we can’t go to school so we have to go do something else.”

“What do you mean we, I’m dropping you off at your foster parents’ house then I’m going back to school.” Sandor pulled out the keys to his car and started to walk out the doctor’s door. Amoria followed him all the way to the automatic glass sliding doors then jumped in front of him.

“Wait since when did you like school?” Amoria’s eyebrows knitted together, ever since she met Sandor there were few things he liked, and school wasn’t one of them.

“Since school got something I liked.” Sandor clicked the unlock button on his keys and went to open Amoria’s door. She climbed in and buckled herself in as he closed the door.

“Something? More like someone.” Amoria grinned as he closed the door behind himself.

“Did you see the kiss as well?” Sandor was puzzled at how many people saw Sansa and him.

“No, Bronn told me. And I didn’t think it was true till just now.” Sandor started the car and pulled off. He took his right hand and dragged it through his hair; he knew Amoria wouldn’t let this go in till he changed the subject.

“Where do you want me to take you?”

“So, is it really that freshman from Winterfell? I didn’t peg you as ginger lover.” Amoria lifted her left hand and shrugged.

“Her name is Sansa Stark.” Sandor drove aimlessly but sort of knew where she wanted to go. “And I’m not a ginger lover I just like her—I mean she’s nice.”

“Oh, yeah nice, well that’s just dandy,” Amoria tried mimicking his voice to be annoying. “Seriously though you Clegane boys like your Northern lassies.”

“Please, like I’ll compare Sansa and I to you and that fiend with the same gene pool as me. Sansa really is a good girl, you on the hand; you’re short, mean, wild, and offensive.” Sandor made a left turn and pulled into a long alley.

“Moi, all those things. Oh, you really shouldn’t.” Amoria hand fanned herself and blinked a million times per second.

“It’s all true. Now where do you want me to take you?” Sandor asked again.

“Take me to your house.” Amoria had been there a thousand times (In fact, if the dating is right, both her children were even conceived there).

“My brother is there.” Sandor warned.

“Yeah, I know. Where else would he be at one o’clock in the afternoon, wrestling is a nightly activity.” Amoria placed her hands on top of growing stomach as Sandor pulled into the driveway of a large sandy colored home.

Amoria watched as Sandor bounced out of the car and went around to help Amoria out. She nodded at him to let her going inside first. Sandor agreed only because he knew what usually happened when the two ‘lovebirds’ got together.

Amoria walked inside and immediately Sandor could her his brother’s loud voice booming.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What do you think, to look at your pretty face? Wrong, Tion needs new clothes and guess what daddy of the year? Clothes cost money!”

“And what? You need some of my money?” Sandor rested the urge to roll his eyes.

“Obviously, jackass!”

“Well, then get a job.”

“Hello, I’m pregnant, with your child.”

“And I told you to get rid of it!” Sandor then heard a noise that indicated someone got slapped but guessed the perpetrator was probably Amoria.

“How dare you! You know I don’t believe in abortion. I should have stayed with Styr, he would have treated me right.” Sandor heard another slap but decided to go against his instincts and step in. He knew that the two got off on beating each other to a pulp. Though Gregor never hit her hard enough to damage; it was some sick twisted foreplay they were doing.

“Don’t you ever mention his name again.” Gregor snarled. Then it was quiet, Sandor understood what that meant and quickly went inside before it got to far.

Gregor, the giant he was, had Amoria pressed against a wall swapping spit with her and groping her in ways that could only result in pregnancy.

“Amoria, I’m going back to school now.” Sandor tried to stare at the dark beige couch in his living room feeling ridiculous. His brother and technical sister-in-law were having clothed sex in front of him without a care in the world. Sandor coughed loudly, “I’m leaving!”

“Mhmm… bye Sandor, Thanks for taking me to the hospit—” That was all she could get out before Gregor attacked her lips again. As Sandor made his way into his car his phone buzzed from a group text from the White Cloaks: _Party tonight at The Night’s Watch._

“Jeyne Westerling? Do have any classes with her?” Robb pleaded with Sansa, who stood by her new locker. The school’s schedule had been designed to have four classes on one day and the other four the next day.

“Well she might be in my Art class but really Robb she’s a sophomore.” Sansa stuffed her backpack in the locker. “You know what I’ll ask Marge and Joffrey about her.” Sansa promised she would but in actuality she didn’t really care for her brother’s new infatuation when the object of her affections hadn’t been seen since lunch.

“Fine…so, mom told me you’re going to the party tonight at The Night’s Watch. Me and Jon’ll be there too.” Robb said like there was another meaning.

“Okay, lots of people will be there.” Sansa closed her locker and turned to look at him. Robb and Sansa were strikingly similar; both had their Tully auburn hair and blue eyes.

“Which means lots of people will be there to witness anything…disgraceful.” Robb slowly moved his eyes away from her then back to her.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I mean, besides the fact that people know you’ve been hanging around a Hound like a puppy.”

Astounded that her brother could insult her in such a way; Sansa turned her back to him and began walking down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Robb yelled for her causing some of the drifting students in the hallway to look at him.

“I don’t know. Maybe to find a hound I could follow? Or maybe a certain Westerling to describe what a major asshole you are? All depends on who see first.” Sansa kept walking in till she found a women’s restroom.

Inside Sansa went immediately to the sink and looked in the mirror. She shook her hair out because it looked flat like a pancake. After a couple of tousling she gave up on getting any more volume. A toilet flushed behind Sansa and she looked at who it was. Surprised Sansa stared at the girl, as she wiped white dust from her nose. The girl had shirt dark hair and dressed androgynously. The girl looked up at Sansa her eyes watery and fierce.

“Are you okay?” Sansa asked looking at the girl’s lean body.

“Yeah, nothing but some white walking to clear my head from the shit day I had. My name’s Asha Greyjoy.” Asha walked over to the sink next to the ginger and washed her hands.

“I’m Sansa Stark. White walking?” the ginger leaned her back against the sink.

“You know…” Asha sniffed twice to give the girl an idea.

“Oh.” Sansa smiled a little and looked towards the door.

“You’re not into that type of stuff are you?” Asha could read the girl just from her face.

“No, I wouldn’t say I’m not into it. I’ve just never done it before.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything… problem is I don’t have anymore.” Asha wiped her hands down her pants. “But you know what, there’ll be a lot more than just white walking at the party tonight.” Asha nodded her head at Sansa and walked to door.

Sansa always thought taking drugs was stupid and life ruining, but she didn’t want the girl, Asha, to think she was anything less than brave.

“Sansa this one, its Versace. I got it last spring.” Margaery passed Sansa a studded detail dress. Sansa’s body filled it out a lot better than Marge’s could. The black dress was paired with Louis Vuitton Sunset sandals.

“Gold is my color, isn’t?” Sansa laughed as she checked herself out in the mirror. “But wouldn’t wearing such nice clothes to flea bottom be a little..”

“Pretentious, superior, snobby? Yeah but someone has to show the poor what glamour looks like.” Stood in the wearing a royal purple geometric print crepe dress by Burberry.

“Oh, Margaery always the giving one.”  A sarcastic voice filled the room. Sansa turned around and saw Joffrey lean against Marge’s walk-in closet door.

“Well, you know how much I love charity.” Marge and Joff laughed.


	5. A Blue Little Pill

 

 

Sandor had only arrived to school for his last lesson; AP Government. The class was filled with thirty students and a teacher who thought kids enjoyed long, monotonous lectures. Although, Sandor thought Westrosi government could be interesting he blamed Mr. Stannis Baretheon, the prick Government teacher, for making the class shit.

All in all, when the clock strung three, the full class of thirty dissipated like steam. Sandor was going to leave the class just as fast as everyone else but someone from the back of the class called out his name. _Fuck._

“Wait Sandor!” Jorah Mormont was intensely filling out his notebook with useless notes. He stuffed some papers in his bag and jogged over to where Sandor stood.

“What do you want, Moron?” Sandor grinned at the ongoing name he teased Jorah Mormont with.

“Stop calling me that.” Jorah walked beside Sandor and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Anyways, I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight?”

Sandor raised his left eyebrow and looked down at Jorah, “Are you asking me out on a date? I thought you like spoiled, blonde girls?”

“No, I’m not asking you out on date. You’re already a shitty friend to me, why would I want you as a partner?” Jorah scoffed and followed Sandor as he made his way to his locker. “I want you to come to the party tonight with me.”

“There’s a party tonight? Where?” Sandor opened his locker.

“At The Night’s Watch. Daenerys is going to be there and…” Jorah trailed off.

“Oh, I get it. You want to see some girl that lives miles away and you want me there on the off chance her large boyfriend is with her.” Sandor had known all about his poor friend’s infatuation with this girl. Sandor had yet to meet her but he had known of her boyfriend; Khal Drogo was very popular in the wrestling world, much like Gregor. Unfortunately, Sandor also knew that she might not like him, considering Gregor had ‘intimate relations’ with her elder brother’s wife. People always tend to place blame on Sandor for everything Gregor does.

“If you have any pity for me at all; everyone will be there and then some. Come on, I’ll owe you one.” Jorah leaned against some of the other lockers.

“You’re lucky there’s no practice today.” Sandor closed his locker and walked with Jorah to his car.

When Sansa arrived at The Night’s Watch with Marge and Joff, it was already ten after eleven. She knew she told her mom she’ll be home for curfew at eleven thirty but in all reality Sansa knew she was going to break that before the time was even set.

Joff had offered to take the girls to dinner after picking them up. They had dined at a lovely Dornish restaurant where Sansa ate the most exquisite lamb with honey and drank a sweet vinegar wine called _Sekanjabin_. Her meal itself seemed to cost a fortune and was greatly impressed that Joffrey could pay for all three of theirs.

The idle chitchat at the table orbited around Sansa. Margaery asked her thousands of questions but seemed to always answer them for herself.

“So, Sansa how many siblings do you have?” Marge would ask.

“I have four but—” Sansa would start to say.

“Me, I have three brothers. All lovely of course; you know, you should meet Loras…” The conversation then proceeded repeating the pattern.

Luckily at the club, music was pouring out of the speakers dispersed around the club and Marge couldn’t chew off Sansa’s ear. Sansa followed Margaery and Joffrey who had a permanent V.I.P section for them and their friends. The only trouble with following them was that the only light source in the club was flashing blue and white strobe lights. All the warm bodies grinding and rubbing against each other smothered her. She didn’t recognized the southron music they listened to but it was fast and loud.

“Sansa! Over here!” Marge yelled in her hidden alcove. She laughed and looked at Joff who was lounging on the sofa. “She’s so cute.” Marge teased her jokingly. Sansa moved over to where they were and sat near Joffrey. “I’m going to get some drinks, be right back.” Marge walked right off the moment Sansa sat down.

“So, Sansa are you enjoying King’s Landing?” Joffrey leaned over to ask her; he didn’t need to strain his voice to speak with (he was that close).

“Yeah, actually—” Sansa was cut off again but this time by a beautiful light blonde, purple eyed girl.

“Joffrey! You made it. I just got something real nice from Pyat Pree.” She came over and sat at Sansa’s right. “Oh, hi I’m Daenerys or just Dany. Who are you?”

“I’m Sansa, I just moved here from Winterfell. It’s nice to meet you.” Sansa smiled at the girl. Daenerys had to be the prettiest girl Sansa had ever seen and she seemed so nice.

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance too. You must go to KLP; I go to Essos High. Now to seal the friendship deal I’ll give guys something for the night.” Dany pulled out a small little bag filled with tiny blue pills.

“What’s this called?” Joffrey sat up and scooted in as Daenerys unrolled the bag.

“It’s some new stuff called Dragon’s eye. It suppose be super psychedelic and make you do and say…adventurous things.” Dany took one out and popped it into her mouth then passed it to Joff. Joffrey took one out and looked at Sansa.

“Do you want one Sansa?” he leaned close to her again, which still made her uncomfortable.

“Hhmmm, maybe, I don’t know.” Sansa turned to look at Joffrey. He then placed the pill on his tongue and leaned in even closer.

Joffrey’s face came centimeters between hers and said, “It’s okay. It’ll only be for tonight.” And kissed her pushing the pill down her throat.

Jorah had made Sandor drive him to the club and pay for parking. Sandor was just glad he had somewhere other than home to be, so the club (no matter how much he hated it) was blessing to be at. Sandor’s entrance to the club was a hassle trying not to step on the people who gave no fucks about the any other person. Sandor, as tall as he was, made sight of the bar and was going to proceed to it.

“Oh, I see her. I’ll see you around Sandor.” Jorah left his side so quickly Sandor thought he imagined Jorah saying that.

Sandor rolled his eyes and walked to the bar. He situated himself on one of the stool and ordered a shot of vodka. He slung it back real quick and turned to watch all the fools dance upon each other. Immediately, Sandor noticed the guy closest to his size coming towards him. The man had dark skin and long black hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Khal Drogo wore a gray muscle tee shirt with dark jeans.

“What are you doing here, Clegane?” Khal sat on the stool next to Sandor and ordered a shot.

“Watching out for you while my ‘friend’ chats up your girlfriend.” Sandor told him bluntly.

“You mean Jorah? Should I be worried about him?” Khal laughed.

“Please, Jorah is half our size but he can still bring some hell.” Sandor grinned but frown when he saw some guy stick his hand up some girl’s skirt. There was definitely some things that shouldn’t be witnessed with others around.

“Not of him, Clegane, for him. I fear he might annoy my _Jalan Atthirari Anni._ ” All this talk of girls had subliminally brought his mind to the girl who kissed his cheek. It had seemed his mind could conjure up his thoughts to real life because a moment after thinking about Sansa she came into his line of view. The girl sort of stumbled as she walked and was dazed; Sandor assumed she must not know what she was doing. But then she started to sway with the music; she shook her hips and closed her eyes. She bit the right side of her lip and opened her eyes.

Instantly, Sansa’s heart constricted; she made eye contact with the boy she had wanted to see since this morning. She wanted to walk over there and talk to him but she couldn’t. Her body wanted to move slowly and dance with the music. She tried to force herself over to Sandor, and she did but the room began to turn. Sandor seemed to move from one side to another, she didn’t know if he were the left one or the right one. She decided to just go straight and hope for the best. She walked and almost made it in till she slipped on something and began descending to the black concrete floor of the club. But she was caught; large arms she imagined holding her caught her.   

“Are you alright, little bird?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Dazed and Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In da club

“Oh, I’m just fine. Just a little, tiny, itsy bitsy dizzy.” Sansa looked at Sandor but then her eyes caught something more hypnotic behind him. He watched as her large blue eyes hazed over the ceiling following some unknown thing to him.

“You must be having an awful fun night, Sansa.” He looked her over, up and down; other than her dazed expression she looked fine. No missing shoe, no unraveling hair, and no nose dusted white with unknown substances. “What made the night so much better, little bird?”

“Hmm…” Sansa untangled herself from Sandor and nodded her head to the music. “My tongue feels weird.” Sansa swallowed her salvia and looked up at the large boy. “Why does my tongue feel like this?” Sansa began to panic.

“Calm down, Sansa, just come sit down and tell me what you took.” Sandor led her over to his stool. The seat next that was once filled with a large, long haired, beefy dude was no longer occupied, so he sat in it.

Sandor passed her one of his tiny little shot glasses and watched as she took a sip at it. He also most laughed thinking that a girl who was clearly on drugs didn’t even know how to drink a shot.

“I don’t know what it is. A girl blonde hair from Essos High gave it to me and…” Sansa caught sight of the palm of hand and stared at it. All the lines on palm swirled and curled into circles.

She didn’t know her hands could that. She watched as some of the lines began digging into her skin and move quickly like they were fighting. She tried scratching her fingernails on them; she didn’t want tiny lines messing with the makeup of her hands. “Sandor help me, they won’t stop fighting.” She showed him her palms and began crying.

Sandor had watched the girl fret about something on her hands, but really had no clue on how to help. He wasn’t really big on chemical drugs but rather preferred liquid poison. Though he could conclude from the little he watched, that the little bird was going through her first bad trip.

“Relax, it’s okay. If you want them to stop just tell them to.” Sandor made it up but hoped it work; he knew it was all just a figment of her imagination and she could probably make it stop.

“Stop it, stop it now, leave my veins alone.” Sansa spoke in a shaky confident manner. But after repeating herself she stared again at her hands, silently.

“Did it work? Are you okay now?” Sandor tried to make eye contact with the girl.

“I didn’t even want to take it. Joffrey made me.” Sansa made eye contact with him. “I didn’t want to kiss him! He has a girlfriend and I like someone else.” Realizing what she had just said she looked out on the dance floor than back at Sandor’s grey eyes that shined like metal at her statement.

Sansa got off the stool and reached over to finish the last of the shot. “I want to dance.”

“By all means, there is nothing stopping you.” Sandor leaned back in the stool and watched as the bird made flight into the swarm of people to dance to some generic pop song, sung by some basic pop culture singer.

He thought it unfortunate that Sansa had been pressured to take unwanted drugs. Plenty of girls at the school had fallen victim to Joffrey Baratheon’s ungentlemanly tactics of wooing them. The only girl that seemed to genuinely like—or for a better word tolerate—him, is his girlfriend, Margaery. And he treats her like shit.

Sansa didn’t notice anybody else on the dance floor, only her and the music. She danced very suggestively in a way that she would only do at home in front of her mirrors. But she didn’t think anyone was watching her. Well, that’s a lie. She hoped one person was watching her, she hoped Sandor could see her from where he sat. She did just unconsciously tell him that she liked him. Obviously.

Sandor was watching her; clearly in a quite expensive dress she stood out from the short form fitting dresses of the other inconsequential girls of the club. Sandor was pleasantly surprised, for a girl her age she could dance ably. He was almost tempted to dance with her, for she made it look so easy, but he regrettably was not endowed with the gracefulness of rhythm. So he carefully observed every shake of her hips or roll of her shoulders.

Sansa thought she could never get tired of dancing, that is until she realized just how many people surrounded her and made her feel claustrophobic and hot. She quickly retreated back to Sandor and put her arms around his neck.

“What’s the haste, girl?” Sandor moved his head back slightly looking at her terrified face, what a night.

“I’m hot, Sandor.” Sansa bent over and leaned her head on his left shoulder.

“Do you want me to take you outside then, Sansa. It’s pretty cool out.” Sandor stood up but Sansa still hung around his neck. It didn’t seem like she was going to let go anytime soon, so Sandor walked out to the front of the club and stood by the curb.

Sansa had finally released her iron grip and landed on the concrete. The cool night air felt nice against the burning of her skin.

“Is it better?” Sandor stood with his hands in his pockets, bouncing from heel to toe.

“Yes, thank you.” Sansa took both her hands and ran them down her faced. “Where did you go today, Sandor? I looked for you.” She said slightly accusingly.

“I had to take someone to the hospital, she wasn’t feeling well.” Sandor thought back to Amoria, hoping she didn’t have another episode after he left her with the monster.

“You mean your pregnant girlfriend?” Sansa’s eyes darted from him to anything else they could catch. She had believed that the girl she saw was his girlfriend but secretly hoped it wasn’t true.

“Amoria’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend, little bird.” Sandor laughed lightly at her.

“Then who is she, why didn’t she get her child’s father to take her to the hospital?” Sansa’s pupils were fully dilated. She looked at him full on again and crossed her arms.

“Don’t ruffle your feathers up too much, little bird. Amoria is my brother’s girlfriend; I took her because she wasn’t going to go otherwise.” Sandor walked a little closer to the girl. “Besides if I had a girlfriend I wouldn’t kiss other girls.” Sandor referred to their morning exchange and smirked.

“Oh…well then. That’s good because it would have been horrible to kiss two taken boys in one day. Even if one of them is not by choice or want.” Sansa gently rubbed right arm mildly embarrassed.

“I’m going to assume you mean you liked kissing me.” Sandor shifted feet but kept eye contact. He was good with that: eye contact. He could pick out lies through the eyes, the supposed windows to the soul.

“Well, yeah. Joffrey has wormy lips and a pretentious attitude. I prefer tall, cool demeanor, guys with wicked scars.” Sansa smiled as she unabashedly flirted with the Hound.

“Well that’s very specific, little bird.” Sandor closed in on her lips but didn’t meet them just yet.

Sansa could feel his breath on lips, “Well I’m very picky and I don’t settle for anything less.” Sansa closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. Sandor welcomed her affections with equal intensity. Her warmth enveloped his being and he placed his hands, one behind her head and the other on cheek, caressingly.  He was tender with kissing her; gently sucking on her lips, nipping only when she didn’t open up for him. And when she did, their tongues lavished in each other’s company.

When their lips parted, Sansa sighed. She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. They were embraced tightly, not ready to let go.

“Sandor, your skin is the most impressive shade of blue.” Sansa said dreamily causing Sandor to laugh.

“Well it doesn’t seem like you’ve come down yet, little bird, do you want to go back in?” Sandor untangled himself from her

“No, I want to go home.” Sansa let her hand fall to the crook of his arm. “Can you take me?”  Sandor nodded to her request and led her to his car.

Attempting to get directions from someone under the influence was a great deal harder than driving under it. Sansa had made him drive in circles and make so many U-turns it should have been illegal.

“Sandor, I’m sorry. I don’t know where I live. I thought it was on Maester’s road but maybe not.” Sansa began crying and sobbing loudly.

“It’s okay, little bird. Why don’t you call one of your siblings?” Sandor used his right arm to rub Sansa’s back. The poor lass has had a night to remember.

“Oh, good idea.” Sansa stopped crying for a moment. “But I don’t have a phone.” She started crying again.

Sandor decided it be best to just pull over. “Here, you can use mine. Just stop crying.” Sandor passed her his phone. “Why don’t you have a phone anyway?”

Sansa wiped the tears off her face and began dialing her sister’s number, “I did have a phone but Shaggydog, my brother’s dog, he…he ate it.” Sansa placed the phone on ear and waited. Sandor had to imagine what type of dog could eat a cell phone.

“Hello, Arya. It’s me.” Sansa waited a moment. “No, I don’t know what time it is.” She paused again. “Arya, yeah that’s all neat and dandy, but where do we live?” Sandor could hear the muffled aggravation of the other line but was pleased to hear Sansa say, “286 Crownland Avenue. Okay thanks, Arry.” Sansa ended the call and passed Sandor back his phone with a grin.

“286 Crownland Avenue.” Sandor repeated to which Sansa nodded yes. Sandor knew roughly where that was and made his way there. He was pulling up in front of the large grey house when he looked at Sansa bemused face.

“Sansa, you might want to go to sleep when you get inside.” Sandor advised her.

“Oh I will. But first I’ll have to face my mother.” Sansa looked at Sandor. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Sansa kissed him on the lips again and jumped out of the car. Stunned Sandor just watched as she made her way to the unlocked front door and braced herself for the upcoming reprimanding.


	7. Body Aches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

“Wow Sansa, I didn’t think you had it in ya.” Arya smiled from the door she was peeking out of.

“It doesn’t take much effort to break curfew.” Sansa said. She tried not to look at her little sister, but instead down the hallway to her own room. She was just now coming down from her high and after not revealing it to her mother; she didn’t want her sister to notice.

“Oh no, I was talking about coming home with a boy and high.” Arya quickly tucked her head back into her room and slammed the door closed. Sansa, all of a sudden worried, ran to the door and began knocking.

“Open the door, you little bitch.” Sansa said in the crack of the door. She tried to use her body to push the door open but Arya stood right behind it trying to get it locked.

“No way, slag, I am going to use this against you. Dude, your life is so over.” Arya laughed and unlocked the door. Sansa slid in quietly but immediately regretted it.

Arya’s room was painted a dark purple (since their parents didn’t allow black) and covered in dirty jeans and t-shirts. The smell in the room reminded Sansa of a bag of corn chips. Sansa couldn’t help but think of different they are for sisters.

“What do you want?” Sansa sighed and crossed her arms.

“Well I don’t know yet.” Arya went to sit on the bed against the left wall. “And I can’t waste a perfectly good bribe on just anything.”

Sansa stayed plastered in front of the door, arms crossed and red eyed, “I don’t have time for this, Arya, I feel like shit and I want to throw up. Can’t you just give it a break?” Sansa turned around and opened the door, ready to exit.

“No, this is what you get. Your ultimate karma is starting now, Sansa, don’t you see?” Sansa looked back to see her sister. Arya had laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Why did Arya always have to be so cryptic but at the same time so blunt.

Sansa walked into her room and immediately crashed into her lovely soft pink duvet and pillows. Her tongue was still feeling strange but she couldn’t move after sprawling her body across the bed, so she just closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.

Sandor Clegane was in no rush to get home, he had circled around his neighborhood for an hour and stopped at a drive-thru for some fries. He had debated whether or not it was appropriate for him to have kissed a girl under the influence. He had thought that maybe he had taken advantage of the little bird. But then again she did kiss him first, the first time.

Sandor pulled into his driveway at precisely two thirty-four. He was still hesitant on opening the door for what may be on the other side; be he did anyway. He passed his little sister’s, Ivy, door and heard silent even breaths and assumed she must be sleeping.

Sandor had made it to his bedroom door before he heard a groan from down the hall. His father’s room was down there; Sandor listened again and heard another groan, he walked down to his father’s room.  The dark wooden door was ajar and Sandor pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“What have you done?” Sandor saw his father face down on the floor black and blue. He looked at his brother then bent down to turn his father on his back to help him. His father’s face was bloodied and Gregor’s fists matched.

“He wouldn’t let Amoria stay.” Gregor shrugged his shoulders from where he sat on their father’s bed.

“He could die you, fucking arsehole!” Sandor pulled his father up from the floor and tried to put him on his bed, but Gregor jumped up and pushed their dad back on the floor. “What the hell?”

“Unless you want the same thing, I’d advise you to get the fuck out.” Gregor then pushed at Sandor, but Sandor didn’t leave. In fact, Sandor pushed Gregor back. It wasn’t the smartest move since Gregor is (and will probably always be) larger than Sandor.

Gregor threw a punch at Sandor and broke his nose. Sandor tried to swing back, he punched his brother in the stomach but the monster barely took notice and kept hitting Sandor in the face.

When Sansa came to school the next day, groggy and exhausted, it seemed the whole student body felt the opposite. It was like the party didn’t even happen last night. She was at her locker trying to fix her hair with a tiny magnet mirror when a familiar face approached her.

“Oh, Marge, I’m sorry I left—” Sansa was cut off from a sudden sharp slap.

“Get your own man, slut!” Margaery was going to slap her again but Sansa beat her to it.

Cradling her own face, Sansa had slapped Marge, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act fake, whore, Dany told me.” Marge began to tear up, “Joffrey’s my boyfriend! You can’t just go anywhere you want and kiss people’s boyfriend!” Margaery was now fully crying and Sansa wanted to feel upset at the girl for hitting her but she seemed so pathetic.

“I didn’t want to kiss your boyfriend, but I think you already know that.” Sansa closed her locker and looked at the girl. “It kind of sad really.”

“Whatever! Don’t ever bother trying to talk me again, loser.” Marge scoffed but still had tears streaming down her face. “You just ruined your chances at having any decent friends in this place.”

Sansa made her way down the hall to the school clinic. Her face was beginning to tighten up with pain. She hoped it wouldn’t bruise; she was already on thin ice with her parents. They hadn’t grounded her because it was her first offense but if they thought she had gotten into a fight…well she didn’t know what they would do. Sansa was usually the good spawn of the family. It was Robb, Arya, and Rickon who got into trouble, not her or Bran.

Sansa was reaching for the clinic doorknob when it opened almost magically. Surprisingly though it wasn’t magic, a girl with a heart face and chestnut hair opened the door. She smiled shyly and moved out of Sansa’s way.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The girl looked behind Sansa then back at her. “Well come on in. Can I help you?”

Sansa walked into the small front room where a beige couch was placed across from another closed door. “Well, I don’t need anything major but can I have some ice?” Sansa sat on the couch.

“Sure, I’m only a Teacher Aide here so I can do that.” The girl moved to open the door and revealed a room with blue exam table and a large cabinet. She reached inside the cabinet and pulled out some blue packets and began cracking it. “Here you go. So what’s your name?”

The girl sat next to Sansa and placed the ice pack on her face. “I’m Sansa Stark.” Sansa sighed in the relief the cold gave her. “What’s yours?”

“My name’s Jeyne Westerling.” Sansa thought for a second where she had heard that name before. Then it came to her; Robb liked this girl, and Sansa had the opportunity to get back at her older brother.

Sandor had woken up feeling broken and aching. He almost didn’t get out of bed for school but knew it would be worst to stay home with Gregor. His brother hadn’t stopped beating him in till he looked just about the same as their father. Once Gregor had stopped, the monster took his father’s wallet and walked out the door. Sandor was able to still move and got his father in the bed and then went to his own.

So he got up—slowly—and went to take the hottest shower he had ever taken in his life. Dressing himself was done in difficulty but he had succeeded in the most basic form of fashion. Sandor had received plenty of injuries on the Lacrosse team, so he knew he could easily heal after a day or two. But as he drove Ivy to school, ignoring her questions about his bruises, his abdomen was getting to him.

So after dropping Ivy off, he got to the school and went straight to the clinic. He had been there a number of times, so didn’t bother being hesitant on opening the door. The usual nurse, Talisa, always provided him with Advil and other pain medication. Nurse Talisa had been helping him out since freshman year and he stopped by whenever he felt like.

When Sandor opened the door he hadn’t thought that maybe someone else was getting treated; he just walked through and made his way to the other door.

“Sandor?” Sansa looked up from Jeyne and pinched her eyebrows together—which she regretted instantly.

“Shit, Sansa, what happened to your face?” Sandor let go of the doorknob and walked over to the couch where the little bird and some girl sat.

“What happened to my face? Have you looked in the mirror, Sandor; you look like you walked into a wall?” Sansa stood up off the couch and lightly touched the bruise on his face, “Seven Hells, Sandor, who did this?”

Sandor wanted to tell her but he looked down at the other girl on the couch, who just stared, “No one.” He rubbed his hand behind his neck, “Anyway, I think I’ll need one of those ice packs and some fucking pain medicine. Where’s Talisa?” Sandor looked down at the girl on the couch.

Sansa had let her hand fall from his face, she had blushed lightly at what she unconsciously did but was still so curious on what had happened to him. She understood that maybe he didn’t want to say in front of Jeyne but would he tell her? She hoped he did, she thought maybe after last night they could become closer.

Jeyne also stood up from the couch and moved towards the examination room, “Nurse Talisa just stepped out for coffee…I could…get you an ice pack though.” Jeyne sounded very cautious of offering her services to Sandor. Sansa thought it weird since she was fine just before Sandor came in.

“Yeah, sure.” Sandor sat down on the couch and watched how the girl scurried away. He was used to it by now; of people being scared of scars. What he wasn’t use to were those who were oblivious to them: like Sansa.

“Are you going to tell me though? Who did this to you?” Sansa sat down close to him.

Sandor half smiled at the little bird and leaned back, “Are you going to tell me how the fuck you got your face like this. I definitely dropped you off home in better conditions.” I thought came into Sandor’s mind of how she might have gotten the bruise, but he didn’t think Sansa had parents who believed in physical discipline.

“You did, it was Margaery.” Sansa had her whole body turned towards him. “She thinks I seduced Joffrey into kissing me.” Sansa said in an incredulous tone, “Yeah I’ll willing kiss him when Winterfell has a full day of no snow.” Sansa smiled.

“I wouldn’t say that now; you know global warming is real.” Sandor grinned.

 


	8. Who Wouldn't Want To Be Like You

When Jeyne came back and handed Sandor an ice pack she was so grateful when the door opened; Talisa carried two hot mugs filled with cheap staff room brew. Jeyne quickly grabbed a mug from Talisa and muttered a thank you, than walked out of the room.

“Well, then.” Talisa stared behind her at the retreating girl but decided she didn’t want to know what was the problem. “Sandor, what have you gotten yourself into now?” Talisa shook her head softly and sipped her coffee.

Sandor playfully glared at the woman and shrugged. He pressed the ice pack to his face, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Okay then, Mr. Tough Guy.” Talisa turned to the girl next to him with auburn hair. “Hello, I’m Talisa Maegyr, the nurse here at KLP.” Talisa had a pretty smile that complimented her tanned skin and long black hair. Her voice had a thick accent that Sansa could only assume was from Volantis.

“I’m Sansa Stark. I was here for an ice pack, as well, but I think I’ll go now.” Sansa stood up and brushed down her skirt.

“It was nice meeting then, Sansa,” Talisa sat on love seat against the opposite wall by the second door, “Shouldn’t you be leaving too, Macho Man?” Talisa placed her mug on the floor beside her feet.

Sandor stood up as well, “Aye, I’ll go. But I’ll probably be back before then end of the day.”

“You’re what keeps this place running, Sandor.” Talisa laughed.

In the hallway, Sandor and Sansa walked side by side without any intention on where they’re heading.

“I don’t even know what class I’m supposed to be in.” Sansa smirked to herself. She had always been on top of her classes and grades; but every since coming to King’s Landing Preparatory she didn’t care. She knew she wanted to dance and be paid to do it—she didn’t really need school. Nor does she see Robb, Theon, or Jon, unless they come to her (which only Robb had done, and for selfish reasons). Sansa had some unbelievable notion that high school was going to be a dream, but she was horribly misinformed. The sad part was that it was only the second day and she still had 718 more to go.

Sandor knew he should go to class—even though he hated AP Composition—but he couldn’t. He was tired and couldn’t motivate himself to part with the Little Bird. “Do you want to go somewhere?” Sandor had thought of a place where he could relax and still be at school.

“Lead the way.” Sansa captured his hand with hers and gripped tightly. “You know as long it isn’t into the woods to get mauled by mountain lions.” Sansa grinned at him as Sandor pulled her into a neatly disguised stairwell.

Sandor looked back at her, “You don’t think I would save you?”

“Oh you could try but I doubt one man could take on a pack of wild lions.” Sansa’s playfulness with him made it easier to open up with each other.

“I would take on a pack of wild anything for you, little bird. I could keep you safe.” Sandor’s rough voice caused a feeling in Sansa that she hadn’t ever felt before. She held Sandor’s large hand and kissed it.

Sansa hadn’t meant to—or maybe she did. Some hidden impulse inside made her press her lips against the large dark hair sprinkled hand of his.

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you either, Sandor.”

Sandor made her walk up three flights of stairs to get into an abandoned music room. His group of friends and those who had graduated used this room as a ditch room. Usually they didn’t allow an underclassman in but Sandor would make an exception for Sansa. His friends were very careful about keeping this hang out spot secret; only their group was allowed in.

The door had been closed but not locked so Sandor knew someone was there. When he opened it he revealed to Sansa and himself a handful of less than honorary students of KLP.

“Sandor, what’s up man?” A handsome boy with brown hair and green eyes jump up off a beanbag placed against a leg of a grand piano. “And who is this beautiful specimen.” The boy walked straight up to Sansa and pushed a piece of her hair behind her head.

“Leave the girl alone, Renly.” Another boy with unruly blond hair got up and walked over to them. He wrapped his arms around Renly’s waist and placed his head on the boy’s left shoulder.

“But Loras, she’s so pretty. What’s she doing with the Hound?” Renly smirked jokingly at Sandor.

“Just because you can’t see my obvious charm, doesn’t mean I don’t have it. This is Sansa Stark. Sansa, these two gays are Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell. Those losers over there who didn’t bother to inquire who you were—”

“You were going to introduce her anyway, wanker!” A girl with short brown hair like Arya shouted.

“That rude chav is Mya Stone, the short girl is Myranda Royce,”

“Fuck you, Sandor, you giant!” she flicked him off.

Sandor and Sansa laughed at her, “Then there’s Bronn, super useless, Jaqen H’ghar, weird hair, and Asha Greyjoy, the stoner.”

“Oi, bathroom girl!” Asha jumped from her beanbag smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette.

Sansa widen her eyes with recognition at the girl she meet in the bathroom yesterday, “You know I went to the party last night but I didn’t see you.” Sansa said.

“Ya know about that, I was meaning to go but I passed out in my car not but an hour after our little exchange. How was it?” the group went back to sit on the random arrangement of pillows and beanbags. Renly and Loras sat entangled with each other.

“Shit. I ended up taking the craziest pill and started to hallucinate like crazy. I’m just glad Sandor was there.”  Sansa watched as Asha passed the marijuana to Jaqen.

“Who gave it to you?” Mya spoke up again.

“This girl from Essos High, called it Dragon’s eye. She has silver hair, purple eyes; I can’t remember her name but I know it starts with a D.” Sansa tried to casually sit closer to Sandor but she just slumped deeper into the beanbag.

“Oh Daenerys Targaryen!” Myranda yelled then took the blunt that Mya passed her, she inhaled than coolly sat back to exhale.

“You know her?” Bronn looked surprised. The Targaryen chick was supposed to be a pretty fit lass, but her boyfriend was completely ripped and a professional boxer.

“No, not personally, I did her brother once though.” Everyone in the group was used to Royce’s unashamed boldness but Sansa was widened her eyes at the girls confession.

“Rhaegar, the Dragon Knight of Lacrosse.” Jaqen said in a Bravossi accent. Sansa was enthralled with how this boy looked; half his hair was red and the rest was white.

“No, no, no, the other one, Viserys. I wish it were Rhaegar.” Myranda sighed at which Loras laughed.

“Please you don’t think you may be a little too young for him.” Loras smirked and took the blunt from her hand.

“Not when I have these.” Myranda grabbed her breast squeezed them, everyone laughed at the crazy girl and Sansa enjoyed the easy flow of conversation that passed through the group.

Through more conversation Sansa found out that all the boys played Lacrosse with Sandor but they were nothing like Joffrey and his friends. For one, Loras and Renly had to keep their relationship a secret and Bronn, Jaqen, and Sandor just didn’t give a fuck about being popular.

The girls on the other hand also couldn’t give a shit about school spirit; they went to their mandatory classes and skipped the others. Mya, Myranda, and Asha were really into yoga because back in their freshman year Myranda convinced them it would benefit their sexual awakening. It did for the most part but then they started to become good at it and were devoted to it.

“Yeah you want to come with us for a session?” Myranda invited Sansa to try yoga.

“I don’t know, I can dance and all but yoga is a little different isn’t it?” Sansa looked in the girls’ eyes.

“Not too much, your probably already pretty flexible, just come and try.” Mya had turned out to be tremendously nice to Sansa and was happy to be her friend. Sansa was psyched at having new friends now that Margaery had totally dropped her on the list of friends. Sansa figured Loras and Margaery were nothing alike just because their siblings much like Arya and her.

“Okay cool, I’ll come.” Sansa nodded.

“You want to try some Sansa?” Asha passed the spliff to the red head, “Don’t worry you won’t have the same affect as last night.”  Sansa trusted her new friends but she looked at Sandor first. She had seen him accepting the spliff a couple of times and thought he would know—he said he would let anything hurt her. Sandor nodded his agreement with Asha. So Sansa took it to her lips and inhaled. The smoke felt weird going down but once she breathed for it to come out she coughed a little and everyone laughed. It was a friendly laugh; everyone remembered his or her first time was quite similar to Sandor’s new lady friend.

“Okay, little bird pass it back.” Sandor stood up and grabbed her hand. He pulled her up to stand by one of the windows away from the group. Sansa propped herself on the windowsill and Sandor stood in front of her ivory legs, her skirt only came up mid thigh sitting down. “You know, you didn’t have to if you didn’t want it.”

“I know, but I wanted too. I wanted to look cooler, to fit in, to be like you.” Sansa put her hands on his shoulders.

“Why would you want to be like me?” The little bird again surprised Sandor with her sudden boldness.

“Who wouldn’t want to be? You’re strong, and tough, and you obviously don’t care what people think about you.” Sansa leaned in closer to his face so they could speak lower so only each other can hear.

“That’s not true; I do care of what you think of me.” Sandor admitted which made a feeling happen to Sansa again.

“And I think quite fondly of you.” Sansa lifted her chin to allow Sandor to press his lips to hers. They would have continued without interruption but a loud whopping of laughter from across the room stopped them.

“Shut the hell up before someone hears you.” Sandor yelled at them but Sansa grabbed his face to kiss him again.


	9. I Think I'm Becoming a Triangle

“No, you have to lift your butt up a little higher.” Mya nudged Sansa.

“I don’t think my body can defy the laws of gravity. How did you guys convince me to do this again? My body’s all sweaty and sticky.”

“I ask myself that question every day.” Asha chimed in.

“You two accepted because I told you how good your body will look afterward.” Myranda stood up off the yoga mat and put her hands on her hips. “And by the way, Sansa the dog pose is the easiest.”

Sansa scoffed at that, “Like shit it is! I feel like I’m becoming a triangle. Why can’t we do the tree again, I’m good at the tree?”

“Let’s not do anymore,” Mya stood up from her mat and started to roll it up. “It’s Saturday, let’s do something.”

“Do what?” Myranda began to roll up her mat and Sansa and Asha followed.

“I don’t know, nothing too crazy.” Mya leaned up against the tree they were circled around. This morning Sansa woke up to a very friendly—but loud—invitation to come and try yoga with the girls at the Gardens of the Red Keep.

“With you three, I’m scared to know what your definition of ‘too crazy’ is,” Sansa smirked as the girls threw up middle fingers at her.

“Oh, ‘too crazy’ happens quite often, my dear ginger friend, and it usually starts with Mya saying something like this,” Asha smirked and lit a cigarette (which she was fully aware was not allowed in the Gardens). “Like last year, when I was dating Lancel Lannister—totally regret that—the boys and us decided to play a game of Hide and Seek. It was—”

“Terrifying, we were at the Lannister’s summer home which is way out in the middle of the forest. That freaky ass family loves to hunt so there were traps all around the property.” Mya shuddered at the memory of that night. She didn’t even want to go.

“What? I thought it was fun. We were all hiding in the dark trying to keep quiet. I was totally feeling Jaqen then and the moonlight just made him seem so…fuckable.” Myranda giggled and the girls all laughed as well but gave her a disapproving look.

Mya snorted, “Good for you, you weren’t the one covered with blood when a dead bear fell out of the trees!”

“Oh, come on! You’re a girl, you’re telling me you’re not used to having a little blood on you?” Sansa laughed as Mya swatted at her arm.

“You jerk! Whose side are you on? Sandor was the only one who could get that thing off me.”

“Yeah, Sansa, your man is pretty fit.” Myranda nudged Sansa with her shoulder.

Asha widened her eyes, “Pretty fit? That boy is pure muscle. Your lucky Sansa.”

Sansa frowned slightly, “Not that lucky, he’s not even my man. Sandor has yet to ask me out.”

“Ay, just give it time; I wouldn’t worry if I were you. We’ve known Sandor since year six and he hasn’t shown any girl as much attention as he’s shown you.” Myranda and the girls began walking to Mya’s car that was parked out on River’s Row lane. “Let's go to Visenya’s Hill and shop.” The girls all agreed; Visenya’s Hill had the best stores to shop and some of the best name brand clothing from Essos.

“You’ve known Sandor for that long? So you know a lot about him?” Sansa sat in the back of the car with Asha, who had just finished her cigarette and tossed it on the street.

“Yeah but not too much really. We know his sister Ivy, she’s in year six now.” Mya started the engine and drove ahead.

“My brother Bran is as well,” Sansa said.

“Then there’s his older brother, Gregor, we don’t really know him but I have a few classes with Amoria.” Myranda pitched in.

“That girl is something else,” Asha whispered into Sansa’s ear. “He has a dad that works for the Lannisters and his mum travels a lot for work.”

“Hmm…okay then.” Sansa let the conversation drift away from Sandor when she realized they knew about as much as her already. She had wanted more, though, more of a reason why he hadn’t made any more advances towards her.

Sandor was exhausted as soon as Lacrosse practice was over. He had finished his water bottle in one taking and collapsed on the field bench. He looked at his team, which was socially divided in two. Joffrey and his douche bag friends stood on the left of the field and tossed the lacrosse ball back and forth. And to the right were Sandor’s friends. He thought it was ridiculous that his team couldn’t even practice together, but that made him a hypocrite because he didn’t want to practice with Joffrey anyway.

“Already leaving, Sandor, just because Coach says practice is over doesn’t mean it really is.” Renly came over to sit next to Sandor. He took off his helmet and shook his hair that was full of sweat.

“Could you not. I was enjoying myself before you decided to come over here and pester me.” Sandor said in an annoyed tone, but Renly didn’t care he knew Sandor would always treat him like that even if they were—what he considered—best friends.

“Harsh, Clegane. All I mean is that I’ll be bored if you left.” Renly said and looked at Sandor’s impassive face.

Sandor rolled his eyes, “No you won’t. You’ll just stare at Loras’ ass the whole time.”

Unfortunately, Renly and Loras keep their relationship a secret since Loras was publically Joffrey’s friend and Joff doesn’t care too nicely for “Pansy, butt-fucking fags” (his words).

“Okay, that’s true. But seriously, you’ll be leaving me with Bronn and ‘silent but deadly’ Jaqen.” Renly grabbed his bags and stood up. “Let me come with you.”

“I have to pick up Ivy from her friend’s house,” Sandor warned.

“That’s fine, I haven’t seen Sister Clegane and such a long time. How old is she again? Six? Eight?”

“Eleven.” Sandor grabbed his stuff and they walked to his car.

Sandor honked his car horn twice outside some blue house. He watched as Ivy ran out with her sleeping bag.

“Bye Helen!” She yelled as she pulled open the backseat of Sandor’s car. She threw her stuff into the back and moved to sit in the middle. She looked at who was sitting in her usual front seat and raised her eyebrow at Sandor. “Renly Baratheon.”

“You remember me!” Renly turned all the way around to look at her.

“Of course, how could I forget the boy who passed out drunk in my bathtub?” Ivy smirked.

Renly grimaced at the memory of waking up to a loud girl’s scream and soaked in a tub. “That was not my fault, Bronn thought he was funny.”

“Bronn wasn’t the one wearing one of my dresses.” Ivy retorted.

“How many times do I have to apologize for that? I didn’t mean to rip it.” Renly laughed loudly and made Ivy smirk.

“Whatever. Why are you with my brother picking me up?” Ivy nodded at her brother, who stayed focused on the road.

“I was bored at practice and Myranda sent me a very interesting text,” Renly said.

“Text? You never mentioned a text when you were begging to come along.” Sandor stopped at a red light to look over at Renly who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Well, that’s because this is a very important text that I knew you would run away from if I brought it up. So I waited till we were somewhere you couldn’t leave, like…driving in a car.” Renly shrugged his shoulders innocently.

“What’s this text about?” Ivy was suddenly very engrossed in what Renly had to say.

“It has something to do with a certain red head your brother’s been interested in, but to my newly found knowledge has not even asked her out,” Renly said.

Sandor felt like he could physically hurt Renly right then for saying something like that in front of Ivy. He kept his mouth closed though and tried to calm himself down.

“Wait, you like someone?” Ivy was astounded; she didn’t think her brother could like a girl or anyone for that matter.

“I don’t—” Sandor stopped himself from saying something he didn’t mean, he’s not a liar. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m not heartless.”

“Wow, and a real girl too?” Ivy looked at Renly who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah and she’s super hot. Nice long legs and full brea—” Sandor hit Renly then.

“Hey! You’re gay remember and she’s eleven.” Sandor snorted as he pulled up his car to his driveway.

“Sandor, I’m in year six now, I know what boys think of girls.” Ivy opened her door and jumped out of the car, leaving her bags. “Now what’s her name?”

“Sansa Stark.” Sandor replied making his way to the front door with Renly.

“Stark?” Ivy thought for a second, “Oh, her brother Bran is in my year and her sister Arya is in year eight.”

Sandor heard his sister but he didn’t think that information was of any importance. The only Stark he thought of was the Little Bird, and she was in year nine.

Thankfully no one was in the house when they arrived so Renly and Sandor took to the couch and T.V. and Ivy went straight to the home phone to call some girl.

“You have to ask her out, Sandor.” Renly said as the Sandor flipped the channels looking for some sport’s network.

Sandor didn’t bother to look at him, “I don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, you do or someone else will.” Renly pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrate.

“Well, I can’t just call her out of the blue and ask her to come with me somewhere.” Sandor leaned back on the couch and tried not to think about what his brother might’ve done on it.

Renly opened his mouth agape, “Are you really pussying out on this. You already know Sansa likes you, so she probably won’t say no.”

“Probably?”

“Just do it.” Renly grabbed Sandor’s phone from the coffee table and gave it to him. “Damn, you have me sounding like some Nike advert.”

Sansa picked out a lovely white dress off a rack and looked in the mirror with it. “What do you think of this?”

Myranda tilted her head to the side slightly, “It’s definitely has a Dornish style to it.” Sansa looked at herself once more but was interrupted by her phone ringing. She looked at the caller ID but it wasn’t one of her contacts.

“Hello?” she answered the phone.

“Hey, is this Sansa?” a gruff voice on the other end asked. The girls all walked over to Sansa to see who called.

“Sandor? Yeah, this is she.”


	10. Well Shit

Sansa smiled to the girls and pointed to the phone, she mouthed "Sandor" and all the girls giggled.

“Is this a bad time?” Sandor’s voice was still so masculine yet it sounded small. It made Sansa feel like she had a slight advantage over the giant boy.

“No, not really. I’m just on Visenya’s Hill with the girls. You?” Sansa turned back to the mirror with the white dress—it truly was pretty.

“I’m not busy at all, in fact, I’m not busy all weekend; nothing planned at all.” Sansa smiled at that.

“That’s crazy because I’m not either—busy that is. Really, tomorrow is going to be so boring because I’m doing nothing.” Sansa walked over to the dressing rooms with the white dress in hand and a crowd of girls behind her.

“Well, then perhaps we could hang out tomorrow?” Sansa could just imagine Sandor saying that on the phone and held in her laughter.

She opened the dressing room curtain and shooed the girls away, “Together? Alone?”

“Well, I would hope you wouldn’t bring your parents.” Sandor’s voice was loud again, like a boost of confidence surged through him.

“Umm…I guess I could let them down gently.” Sansa says sarcastically.

“Are you going to come or not, girl?” Sandor said in his usual hostility.

“My God, how could I refuse an offer like that?” Sansa swooned. “Of course you can take me out on a date.”

“Okay, then I’ll be at yours at like eight or whatever.” Sandor hung up on Sansa then without a real goodbye but she didn’t mind; she saved his number into her phone. Sansa tried on the white dress, believing it might actually come in handy if Sandor was to take her out on a proper date tomorrow.

Someone whining Sansa’s name reminded Sansa of the girls who waited impatiently to know why Sandor had called her. Sansa opened the curtain to reveal herself to the three girls.

Myranda stood in front of her on the brim of exploding with excitement, “Oh, Sansa, you look lovely.”

“She’s right and all, but did that brute just ask you out or did we hear wrong?” Mya Stone peeked out of the dressing room to the right of Sansa.

Sansa laughed and shifted around in the dress that wasn’t zipped all the way, “No your eavesdropping skills are still on point.”

“Sansa, I’m so happy for you two. There will finally be two couples in the group.” Myranda laughed. But Asha stood in the back quietly observing. Sansa had noticed the girl sometimes goes silent in the moments when Sandor was the subject of the conversation or present. Sansa thought it odd at first since Asha could talk up a storm and literally be the life of the party but the minute Sandor was in front of her, she was stoic.

Sansa could only assume from the subtle hints from Asha that she also fancies the giant boy.

“You should wear that dress,” Asha commented walking up from behind Myranda.

“Really, you think so?” Sansa looked down at herself again, “I don’t know where Sandor is taking me and it is white.”

Mya nodded in agreement, “True, but you look so pretty in it, Sansa.” Sansa smiled she enjoyed having so many girl opinions on stuff like this. Arya was no help in the subject, and her old friend Jeyne had such horrible taste in clothes—and well everything.

 

“Good job, you did it.” Renly laughed and threw his feet on the coffee table. “Now where are you taking her?”

Sandor sighed, “Well shit, I did not think that far.” He rubbed his left temple with two fingers.

“Understandable, you didn’t even think she would accept.” Renly grabbed the remote and changed the channel.

Sandor stood up from the couch and went over into his kitchen, “Well where did you take Loras?”

“My bedroom.” Renly says bluntly, “I mean considering we couldn’t publicly go out with each other.”

Sandor scavenged through the cabinets and refrigerator looking for nothing in particular. He thought of how there was never any food in the house when his mother was out working and dad was scared to come home. He frowned thinking of cheap but quality food he can get for dinner for Ivy and him tonight.

“You didn’t ever try to…I don’t know, sneak away somewhere no one knows you?” Sandor found a bag of chips resting above his fridge and brought it down to exam how much was actually in it. It was quite full and Sandor walked back into the living room to sit down.

“Do you know who our families are? We could move to Budapest and someone could still recognize my handsome face or Loras’ amazing hair.” Renly leaned over to stick his hand into the bag of chips, “Why don’t you take her out somewhere normal?”

“Normal?” Sandor thought on it.

Renly shrugged, “Yeah, you know; dinner, maybe a walk in a park, a drive, a kiss goodbye.”

“That could be boring,” Sandor says worriedly. It would really suck ass if he were to pick Sansa up tomorrow and not have anywhere to take her.

“Not if you’re meant to be together.” Renly says in a ‘duh’ tone, “First dates are meant for couples to just be getting to know each other. I admit you two probably know quite a bit about each other anatomically, but just talking to her might make the next date planning easier.” Renly spoke like a true love expert.

Sandor will be sure to spread the word on how insightful the young, egotistical Baratheon could be.

“Are you two still talking about that Stark girl?” Ivy walked down the stairs holding the house phone in one hand.

“Yes, and were kind of stuck on something,” Renly answered before Sandor could.

Ivy jumped down the last stair and plunked herself into the lazy-boy. “Stuck on what?”

“Where Sandor should take her on their first date.” Renly smiled as Sandor hid his face under his hand, “Ivy, where would you like to go on your first date?”

“You know, when you’re older,” Sandor added, staring daggers into Renly’s head.

Ivy blushed red, her long black hair concealed the sides of her face but it was still noticeable, “Well I would like to go on a date in a boat like in the Notebook, with swans instead of ducks. I would also like it to rain, so we could kiss in the rain. Or maybe at night so we could be under the moonlight when we kiss.” Ivy let out a small giggle.

Sandor’s embarrassment dropped at the thought of doing something so ridiculously foolish, “Ummm…No.”

“Oh I see, all the romantic genes fell to you, did it, Ivy?” Renly laughed and tousled her hair.

“Sansa get the fuck out of the bathroom!” Robb banged on the door with their little sister, Arya. Sansa turned up her music louder, her siblings were being right pricks and on such an important day. Their house had three other bathrooms but they would rather bang on the one Sansa used to get ready for her date with Sandor.

“I swear to the gods, you two are the worst human beings on this planet,” Sansa yelled over her music. She was content with silently telling herself why she had made Bran and Rickon her favorite brothers.

“Mom!” She heard the two yell together. Sansa smiled smugly she knew she had a greater advantage over her siblings in this fight. Her mother adored her compared to Robb and Arya; Sansa had the best grades in the house and always did as their mother asked.

Sansa could her mother’s high heels walking up the stairs, “Will you two leave Sansa alone.” She heard her mother, “She is trying to get dressed.”

“Get dressed for what?” Arya asked.

“Her date with a boy named Sandor.” Her mother says.

But Robb doesn’t back down, “Sandor Clegane, you mean? That is not a boy, that is a monster.”

Sansa hears her brother say this and whips the bathroom door open, “Sandor is no such thing!”

“Oh, really because of the looks of it, he fits the shoe.” Robb looks back at his mother, “You’ll see mum; this ‘boy’ is near seven feet tall and one side of his face is mangled in scars.” Robb uses his hands in drastic flamboyance.

“Mummy, would I date a monster?” Sansa says nicely, “ Sandor is scarred true and he is quite big, but that does not diminish his fondness for me or mine for him. He is no monster.” Sansa bats her lashes at the end.

“Oh, I believe you, Sansa. I trust that you would never make such a mistake.” Catelyn Stark brushed her hand through Sansa’s auburn hair. “Now leave your sister alone, you two.”

Sansa went back into the bathroom to gather all her things. She exited with a smirk pointed at her siblings, “Don’t worry, mum, I’m all done now.”

When Sandor pulled up to Sansa’s house he debated with himself on whether or not to walk up to the door or call Sansa from the safety of his car. Sandor quickly decided against being such a little bitch and opened his car door. He made long strides to Sansa’s front door; he stood for a moment forgetting what to do next. But Sandor remembered and rang the doorbell.

When the door finally opened, a man—with cold eyes—slightly shorter than Sandor stood with a little boy between his legs.

“You must be Sandor.” The man spoke with a surprisingly warm voice, “I’m Eddard Stark, Sansa’s father.”

“And I’m Rickon!” the boy burst out through his father’s legs like a lit flame. Sandor was taken aback by the boy’s excitement; he had only Ivy to compare with every other child in the world, and she was never very hyper.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sandor tried his best to make a pleased face without scaring them with his scars. Eddard moved to the side to let Sandor in.

“Sansa will be down in a minute.” Eddard looked up to the stairs behind him to see Sansa already making her way down, “Or now.”

“Sandor!” she moved down the stairs quickly but gracefully.

Sansa smiled at Sandor, she had kept her hair down naturally and wore a white dress—a dress in which if one asked Sandor to described he would say almost sheer yet modest.

“Are you ready to go, Sansa?” Sandor looked her up and down.

Sansa had noticed his looks but tried to ignore them since her father was still present, “Yes, I am.” She turned to look at her father and Rickon, “Have a good night, dad.”

In the car, Sansa asked Sandor about his day to which they conversed of their preparations to this night. Sandor’s father had come home earlier in the day when he found out Gregor had a wrestling match out in Essos and won’t be back until tomorrow. Ivy stayed home with him and they ordered a pizza.

Sansa spoke on how her cousin, Jon, was coming over because his mum liked to travel out of the country and leave him. She told him how she was surprised he asked her out; Sandor smirked and told her that he probably should have done it early except—well he didn’t have an excuse for why he didn’t.  
“So where are you taking me?” Sansa smiled and placed her hand on his arm.

Sandor looked over to her quickly but kept his eyes on the road, “Well, I asked around and most people think going out to eat is best for a first date. Then on the second or third I can take you skydiving.”

“Really, then. You’ll take me skydiving?” Sansa’s eyes lit up.

“If that’s what you want. I’m sure we could set something up.” Sandor laughed loudly as he pulled into the parking lot.

Sandor was just turning off his engine when his phone started ringing. He picked it up to see that Amoria had been calling.

“Hold on a moment Sansa, Amoria is calling me.” Sansa nodded to him understanding that Amoria is pregnant.

“Hello, Am?” Sansa couldn’t hear what was being transpired on Amoria's end of the line, only Sandor’s response.

“Calm down, girl. What is wrong…He did what?... Did you call Gregor?” Sandor was silent for a moment; Sansa could tell he was upset.

“Okay, don’t worry, Amoria. I am coming right now.” Sandor hung up the phone and looked at Sansa.

“I understand. Let’s go.” Sansa said slightly dejected.

Sandor looked at her before moving, “I’m sorry, Sansa, I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

Sansa nodded, “Okay but what happened.”

“Amoria and I…well we both have the unfortunate luck of having similar brothers. Her brother, Ramsay, arrived at her house uninvited and discovered she was pregnant again.” Sandor started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, “Ramsay and Gregor do not get along, ironically, so when he saw her he…she could usually fight him off but she’s in such a fragile state at the moment and couldn’t.”


	11. The Broken Bolton and The Bastard Bolton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like I totally posted this shit and it's 700 words less the normal, yeah! *I say sarcastically at 1 am*

 

Sansa sat in the passenger seat of Sandor’s car. She wasn’t too upset about their canceled date after seeing how frustrated and worried Sandor looked. She had tried to be quiet during the ride but she could feel the tension rolling off Sandor.

“Sandor, relax. She’ll be alright.” Sansa reached over to touch his forearm.

Sandor looked over to her quickly and back to the road, “I know, it’s just that she wanted to go home but she can’t if Ramsay going to be there. I won’t let her go if she’ll just end up getting hurt. She’s my sister.”

Sansa rubbed his arm up and down; “Amoria wouldn’t put her children in danger.”

“Not purposely, but she’s still with Gregor!” Sandor raised his voice.

Sansa wasn’t frightened by his sudden burst but worried, “Sandor what’s so wrong with Gregor? I know nothing about him besides he’s related to you and dating Amoria.”

It was silent for a moment in till Sandor spoke.

“You see this,” Sandor pointed to the scar on his face, “He did this to me when I was seven. We were camping and he got upset over some stupid shit and pushed me into the campfire.” Sandor honked his horn at some innocent driver in from of them, “Held me there till my father could pull him off.”

“Didn’t he get in trouble?” Sansa hoped he did.

Sandor scoffed, “No. Of course not, my parents are all to proud to admit what’s wrong with their firstborn.”

The conversation died again. Sansa didn’t know how she could be a helping participant in this ordeal. Her family was privileged—she wasn’t naïve to the upper class luxuries she lived with. But this was the first time in her life she had been introduced to people who lived differently to her idea of normal. Sansa hoped that wouldn’t cause problems between Sandor, her friends, and her.

Before Sansa realized it, Sandor and her were standing in front of Amoria’s apartment knocking on the door.

“Sandor is that you?” Sansa hears a female’s voice from the other side of the door.

Sandor sighs, “Yeah it’s me…and Sansa. Open the door, will you?”

Amoria had moved out of her foster parents’ home when she got pregnant with Tion, her father paid the rent on a small house for her and Tion. Amoria opened the door with only her head peeking out, she waved her hand ushering them in. Sandor took in Amoria’s battered self: her disheveled hair, the bruise resting on the left cheek, bleeding lip, and discoloring hand marks on her arms.

She had closed and locked the door behind them. Sandor pulled Sansa over to the black couch with him. Sansa looked around and noticed the bareness of the room. If she leaned to her right she could look inside a small, tiled kitchen and to her left were two closed doors. She thought, perhaps, one of them was the bathroom and the other a bedroom.

“How’s Tion?” Sandor leaned foreword on his knees and looked straight at the hurt pregnant girl.

Amoria sighed and sat on the low coffee table—which impressed Sansa because she remembered her pregnant mother who could barely put her own shoes own, let alone squat. The coffee table sat between the couch and a small T.V. (on a smaller table).

“He slept right through it. Still sleep in fact.” She looked over to Sansa , “What a shitty way to meet someone.” She muttered, “I’m sorry, Sansa, that we have to meet like this and ruin your date. My names’s Amoria Bolton.” She reached her hand out to her. “We didn’t really met when I went to that party at Winterfell that one time.”

Sansa shook Amoria’s hand but place her other hand on top of the union, “It’s fine really, but we’re here to make sure you’re okay.” Sansa let their hands fall, “How about I help you with the cut on your lip.” Sansa smiled at her.

Amoria nodded, “The bathroom is just over there.” Sansa got up off the couch and ventured into the bathroom.

Sandor’s eyes followed Sansa, “Did Ramsay say why he was here?” He turned to look at Amoria then.

Amoria kept looking towards Sansa, “Yeah, my father sent him down to come get me. They both didn’t know I was pregnant again.” Silent tears began to stream down her face. “They weren’t supposed to know.”

“They would have found out, Amoria. You couldn’t hide a child could you?” Sandor sat up straight.

“I don’t know what I would have done!” she shouted, “I’m not even sure if I can break-up with Gregor.” She wiped her tears away quickly as Sansa came back over to them carrying cotton pads and a couple of jars.

Sansa bent down in front of Amoria, “I found some hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol.” Sansa pours some rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad.

“Oh, I hate this part.” Amoria leaned in little so Sansa can wipe her bleeding lip. “You know if I wasn’t knocked up, Ramsay would’ve never—” she stopped talking because her lip started to sting.

“I’m sorry.” Sansa winced at the pain she was causing to Amoria. Amoria nodded to her.

Sandor watched on as a million thoughts ran through his mind. He remembered when Gregor first hit her and he was in Sansa position now—cleaning her cuts and empathizing with her pain. He could picture when he first met Amoria, her small frame and ash blonde hair. She was a transfer student who had become quick friends with his group. The girls and her clicked instantly and they went everywhere together. It was at one of Gregor’s MMA matches that she met him.

“I’ve always had a thing for large, masculine guys.” She told Sandor after explaining why she had began dating his monster of an older brother.

“Yeah, well…” Sandor couldn’t find the words to dissuade her.

“Sandor really there’s nothing to worry about.” Amoria grinned in the way that only his brother could match. It was unnerving at the time and still unnerving when she felt the need to display it.

Sansa stood up in front of Amoria, “I think I got all of it, even put a little bit if this ointment on it.”

“Thank you, Sansa.” Amoria grabbed the contents Sansa had used and walked to the bathroom.

“Sansa we should leave soon.” Sandor stood up and reached out for Sansa’s hand.

Sansa grasped his hand tightly, “Are you sure? Her brother won’t come back, will he?”

“I don’t think so,” Sandor watched Amoria walk back into room, “but I think we should tell Gregor. You know he could take care of Ramsay.” He spoke to Amoria as he led Sansa to the door.

“Sandor, don’t tell him,” she almost broke into tears, “he would do something awful.”

Sandor let go of Sansa’s hand and walked to wipe the tears landing on her cheeks, “And why shouldn’t he? Look at what he did to you.”

“Sandor, I’ve already lost one brother.” She wiped her eyes, “and I couldn’t let anything bad happen to Gregor. Sandor, promise you won’t tell him.”

Sandor was hesitant to say anything but he needed to get Sansa home, “Okay, I promise, but know that I don’t want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, like, I've been working on a Gregor/Amoria canon story if anyone's interested. I won't post it until it's done, though, promise. 
> 
> It's as if Amoria was Gregor's first wife that died. Which, spoiler, she dies cause it's canon. 
> 
> but it'll be done soon. hopefully


End file.
